Bless the Meddlers
by Walking Through a Dream
Summary: The idea of a blind date wasn't thrilling to either one of them to begin with.  This one turned out to be not so blind...
1. The Enlisted of Fate

**Disclaimer**: Glee is the rightful property of a guy named Ryan Murphy and a terrifying corporate entity known as Fox.

**Notes**: Several 'Santana and Rachel meet some years later in New York' storylines have occurred to me. For the time being, this is the one that's getting a bit of sunlight, so to speak.

**Bless the Meddlers**

(Meddlers Are the Enlisted Men of Fate)

"Come on, Rachel, I finally got my friend to agree to a setup and I really think she'd be perfect for you. You know that you've been having terrible luck on your own." The girl was only about an inch taller than Rachel, with light brown hair and a dangerously infectious smile.

Rachel winced, Candice was right. She'd had three relationships with men since she'd left Lima behind and each had been worse than the last. She'd decided as she'd walked away from Mark that it was definitely time for her to start her 'experimenting' stage with the fairer sex. It wasn't like she didn't know that she thought girls were attractive. She'd just not tried dating any. Four misguided attempts later she'd had a handful of kisses, some awkward groping and a new respect for why lesbians hated bicurious women so much. "...Fine. I'll meet your friend. Provide me with the essential facts- where, when, and who- and I will give this meeting a chance. If, on the rare chance that it actually *is* worse than my date with 'Jenny the dance major' I know where you live and at least five things that make you absolutely miserable."

For the briefest moment Candace looked worried, but then the look was replaced with what appeared to be absolute confidence. "You won't regret it! I told her to be at Beans and Things tomorrow at 3:30." At this point Candace was already walking backwards, increasing her volume to be heard over the growing distance. "She'll be wearing an NYU sweatshirt- and you know that you don't see that many of those in our artsy fartsy little coffee house." And then the girl was gone before Rachel could ask any of her questions. She had several along the lines of: So how did you meet this NYU girl? Why can't you just tell me her name and give me a real description? And mostly, and what's wrong with her that she needs you setting her up?

Of course, Rachel could at least partially answer most of these. Candace flitted from group to group and human project to human project. The girl probably had a secret ambition to befriend the population of the entire city if not the entire state. Not giving her more than a somewhat dorky clue of what to look for was probably a bit of misguided romanticism. Her friend seemed like the type that would have enjoyed saying 'she'll be the one with a single red rose lying on the table in front of her'. This idea had probably been rejected by the other party. As for the last… well, Rachel didn't really have an answer but since she was in the same situation she figured she wasn't in a place to judge too quickly.

It was 3:28 as Rachel slipped through the door of Beans and Things. She'd had to kind of book it to get there on time. Candace hadn't really given her a lot of time, a fact that she'd been grumbling about for the last few minutes. She let it go though, in favor of wondering if her date was the type to arrive early or late. That always said something about a person. Maybe it didn't say anything too deep, but it was still a good revelation that you could count on making early on in a relationship. There were way too many things that could hide for a very long time.

Her eyes scanned the faces and torsos of the other patrons, coming to rest on the face above the proud NYU logo. Rachel's mouth fell open and for a shocked second or two could only frantically think 'oh my God' on repeat. After that she thought about making a run for it before stoically squaring her shoulders and walking towards the woman who still had her eyes glued to a book. That was something Rachel took as a blessing just before she took a steadying breath and sat down across from Santana Lopez.

(Yesterday afternoon)

"And how may I be of assistance to Hobbit Mark II?"

Candace frowned at her Hispanic friend, "Why do you call me that?"

Santana waved a hand dismissively, "Doesn't matter. It's more or less a term of endearment. So..?"

"I know the perfect girl for you," Candace beamed.

It was time for Santana to frown this time. "I don't know; blind dates… It's not as if I can't get one on my own."

Candace gave the other woman her best unimpressed look, "You can get any number of _first_ dates." She watched in satisfaction as Santana actually flinched at the emphasized word. "You've even worked enough things out that your disastrously short _relationships _are mostly not even your fault," this time the emphasis had a healthy dose of sarcasm to it.

"Excuse me, but how was Lisa my fault?" Santana had _tried_, God, how she'd tried but that had gone from bad to ugly to 'natural disaster' as she watched helplessly on. There were places she still feared to go because of the small chance she might see the blonde terror known as Lisa and get verbally dissected in public. Again. What was it with blondes? Santana wondered.

"The only thing about Lisa that was your fault," Candace said a little dramatically, "was that you picked her. You have horrible judgment when it comes to women. You need someone to screen for you."

Santana really wished she had a good argument for that. "… Alright, I'll do it... but no corny gimmicks like having her find me because I've got some stupid flower sticking out my ear, or anything even remotely like that."

(Present time)

Upon hearing someone sitting across from her, Santana raised her head. The face in front of her was unmistakable- even if the girl did look quite a bit more fashionable, in a casual college sort of way.

It'd been what, four, five years since she'd seen Rachel Berry? Closer to five, she decided, but no one forgot that particular spitfire of a diva. A diva who was currently sporting a series of expressions ranging from mild amusement to extreme awkwardness. "Let me guess," Santana broke the silence, "you know this totally pushy woman named Candace Williams?"

And then Rachel was laughing and the tension was broken, "In a nutshell." She shook her head, "I spend my life immersed in musicals- I make it my business to envision unlikely scenarios and try to make them feel real. That said, I don't think there's any way I could have envisioned the number of coincidences that had to line up in order to put the two of us in this coffee shop."

"It is pretty crazy," Santana concurred, "I don't even think I told her where I'm from." She paused, considering, "Then again, it's Candace. I've suspected for a while that she's got some super stalker skills. She's probably got some CIA class dossiers on the both of us."

When Rachel found herself laughing again she wondered if Santana had always been so amusing. She supposed that the Latina had, but that it was harder to appreciate it as the target. It also helped that the abuse being thrown at their mutual friend was not only mild but was obviously not really meant… though, then again, Candace **did** always know a little too much about people. "She might just," she agreed before they lapsed into what started as a reasonably comfortable silence.

Rachel tried to keep her face straight as her thoughts raced. It was an amusing situation and oddly nice to see Santana again and have an actual, pleasant conversation with her but someone was going to have to address the 'purpose' of it all. Nicer version or not, there was no way that the woman who had once dubbed her 'treasure trail' wanted to date her. "Ah, well," Rachel stood, "I guess I should go. Don't be too hard on Candace, alright? I'm sure in her strange way that she meant well."

Before Rachel actually started walking away, Santana spoke up, "Wait," Rachel did and she continued. "I don't know about the whole 'date' thing," she really couldn't imagine the little singer she'd been so hard on could tolerate the idea but she hated to end on a bad note, especially when she had this chance to smooth some things over, "but if you don't mind, I think I'd really enjoy catching up." The Latina put on her best 'charming but not trying to seduce you' smile, "So tell me, what've you been up to?"


	2. Two Questions

**Notes: **First off, thanks to everyone who favorited and alerted, and an even bigger thanks to everyone who took the time to review. It seriously made my week. Second, my "research" for this chapter involved four minutes of clicking links on the NYU website. Last, the conversation recap was supposed to be a tiny bit at the top of the chapter. It sort of got out of control and became chapter two... I hope that it's an enjoyable read and I promise that I'll get the story moving with next chapter!

(Do I know you? Did I ever?)

In different parts of the city, two different minds replayed their conversation. They had caught up, starting with the basic rundown of where they were. Rachel was just finishing up a Bachelors in drama (with an emphasis in acting - and including a lot of extra music classes). She was poised to start the exciting and terrifying process of breaking into the professional world.

_"I know it's not just going to be handed to me- well, I suppose I **could** get the first thing I auditioned for, which would be fantastic, but it isn't very likely. It'll probably be a while before I can actually support myself with my theatrical endeavors."_

_"So… if you're going to spend all this time going from audition to audition, how were you planning on living in this damned expensive city?" Santana had stayed on campus, not because she wasn't getting sick of the teensy dorm she called home, but because every time she looked at apartments she realized that she'd never be able to afford one unless she dropped out._

_"Oh, we've got a plan," Rachel started excitedly. "There are four of us that are going in on this ridiculously small apartment so we can each work 20 hours a week and afford it between us. See, we've all got different voice types and wildly different appearances so we figure that we'll never be up for the same part and therefore won't ever have to sabotage each other!" _

_"Ah, well…" Santana struggled for something nice to say. The best she managed to come up with was, "Sounds like you've found a great group of likeminded individuals." _

_Rachel actually blushed a little. "Sometimes I forget that people outside the theater world are actually sane and can be put off by that kind of attitude." She grinned sheepishly, "But, yeah, they are a great group and the fact that I wasn't the one that made that argument first makes me feel comfortable about their honesty." _

_Santana laughed, 'Honesty. It always was a big thing to you." Her smile softened, "I actually am glad you've found a group who gets you."_

Santana had finished one degree in social anthropology and was just rushing head first into a Psychology and Social Intervention (PSSI-PHD) Doctoral Program.

_"Uh… wow… ah, what does that lead to? I'm honestly coming up with nothing." Rachel's admission obviously embarrassed her._

_It only made Santana laugh, "That's a damn good question." At Rachel's horrified expression she then reassured, "There's a few places to take it but I'm probably looking at the administrative side of education. I'd like to get in and have a say, try to make school a little less awful for kids."_

Rachel had been impressed, had actually threatened to be moved. Santana was both proud and a bit embarrassed, so to change the subject the Latina had asked if the future starlet had gotten all the roles and solos she'd wanted, to arm her as she took Broadway by storm. Rachel admitted that she'd had some complaints at the time, especially the first year when she kept getting chorus member and 'villager #2' kind of parts. As she worked her way through the program she'd been able to score more leads, or at least solid character parts.

In turn, Rachel had asked Santana if she still sang. It was almost a casual inquiry, except for the fact that Rachel was somewhat horrified at the thought of anyone giving up music when they had talent for it. Fate would have to tear music away from her, kicking and screaming.

_"My first year my singing was confined to the shower, and possibly a few lucky fellow dormers who were in a position to appreciate the thin ass walls." Santana shook her head, she really needed to get away from campus. "The next year though, I actually signed up for the big 'All School Choir'."_

_Rachel made her eyes widen a bit, going for that 'far off' look, "I'm just imagining you in a regular choir..."_

_"I know, right?" Santana laughed. "Actually though, they did all sorts of music, popular and classical. And even the old stuff... well, depending on who you asked some of it was boring as hell," obviously her words, "or 'over my head'," most likely the professor's. "Some of it though, once I actually learned it and got to hear it from inside... It was amazing. Even if the words didn't mean anything to me, it was gorgeous all on its own."_

_"Yeah," Rachel smiled fondly, "I mean, I didn't go the classical way either, but good music is good music. It's always amazing to be part of something great."_

At the time Rachel hadn't even realized that she'd referenced what she'd said to Mr Schuester about her dreams for Glee club that first year. In a number of ways, she really hadn't changed that much. Then again, in other ways she'd changed a great deal. Santana definitely noticed and though much went left uncommented upon, one certain elephant in the room was owed a nod, due to their circumstances.

_"So, you've been converted to the dark side of the sexual force. When'd that happen?"_

_"'The dark side'," Rachel quoted and rolled her eyes but all the same smiled at the adorable dorkiness. "I was never entirely appalled by the idea. Really, at least for me, the current theory of sexuality being fluid and based more on idea than the physical makes a lot of sense. I guess it's kind of a _cliché _answer now, but I really didn't want to exclude anyone that I might be able to be really happy with."_

_It **was **kind of the _cliché answer, but it was still a good one and Santana acknowledged it with a nod. "And hey, better to try it out here than in Lima. Your crowd'd probably not freak out at all if you brought a girlfriend 'round."__

__"Ha!" Rachel laughed theatrically, "please, homosexuality and the theatre have gotten along since the beginning. If I actually wanted to freak those guys out, I'd have to show up with my construction worker husband and two point five kids."__

__"Hey," Santana mock defended, "two point five kids **is** freaky! And tell me this: how is it that abortion is such a huge deal but the average family in this country is getting away with cutting kids in half and nobody bats an eye?"__

The conversation had wound down after that with small talk of their last visits home and who had kept up with whom. That list was pretty short. Santana stubbornly called Brittany every year on her birthday (they'd always been best friends, damn it) while Rachel generally called/heard from Kurt when either one of them had something to brag about. She also called Puck every year, though closer to Hanukkah than his birthday. About that point they'd been sitting in the coffee shop for some hours and it was becoming clear that they'd have to call it over fairly quick.

_"So..." Rachel started, "It's been wonderful to see you again and be able to catch up, Santana." It had been good to talk to Santana. Of course, she thought it might have been a relief to talk to **anyone** who understood music, drama, and competition, but who wasn't completely wrapped up in it all._

_"Yeah," Santana smiled, then bit her lip in an odd display of nervousness. "I was thinking... You know, it **has** been nice. And, even if Candace's evil plot kind of fell apart, if you wanted, maybe we could meet up once in a while, hang out. It'd be great to have a friend who understands why I can't help but roll my eyes every time people talk about the 'joy of going home for the holidays'."_

_Rachel laughed in agreement. "So true."_

_With a wide smile and an actual wink Santana added, "Besides, I want to be able to tell people that I saw Rachel Berry in her first professional role."_

They'd exchanged phone numbers and made loose promises about calling 'sometime', each convinced that the other probably wouldn't. They weren't high schoolers anymore and life was a busy thing. Either way, a certain friend was going to hear about what could have been a true disaster...


	3. At Least Two Sides

**Notes:** This week has been so incredibly out of control. I'm kind of amazed I wrote enough to update... but enough about that! Who else thinks that Naya Rivera would sound amazing on the Eurythmics' 'Love is a Stranger'?  
>Also, I borrowed a joke from 'Something Positive' by RK Milholland.<p>

(As Always, There Are At Least Two Sides to Every Story)

Rachel didn't even have to track Candace down. It was kind of disappointing, as she'd had it all planned out- her marching purposefully into a room, addressing her friend as 'Ms Williams' and continuing from there in as intimidating a fashion as possible. This threw all of that out the window.

"How'd it go?" The girl was beaming, "It must have gone well. I'd know if it didn't because I'd have probably woken up at 4 am to the sound of you doing that sick thing where you hum and whistle at the same time, in tri-tones."

It was only then that Rachel remembered that she had promised swift and dreadful revenge- but only if things had gone worse than they had with Jenny the dance major. As there had been no hysterical crying and no need to find the perfect Velvet Elvis (don't ask), there was no way Rachel could claim her actually enjoyable afternoon with Santana had been worse than any evening she'd spent in **that** company. "It didn't go badly…" she admitted, "no thanks to you!"

At this Candace made the face universally acknowledged to mean 'what the hell?' "Uhm… OK, how exactly is this working?" She spoke slowly, reasoning, "I set you up on a date that 'didn't go badly', I get that part. I'm a little confused about the part where I was apparently trying to sabotage you as I'm pretty sure that I wasn't there…"

"Candace, what's the most awkward blind date situation you can think of?"

"Your date turns out to be your father, post sex change, going by his new 'stage name'."

It was Rachel's turn to make the 'what the hell?' face. She tried again with a sigh. "Do you remember where I'm from?"

"I don't remember the name," Candace shrugged, "didn't you say it was some cow town in Ohio?"

"And Santana?"

"Now I know that she's never told me where she's from, just that she's from some co-" the brunette stopped short. "Oh. Uh… you knew each other?" Candace wasn't exactly sure where this was heading, but it did seem to be edging towards 'awkward.'

Rachel nodded, "You also remember what I told you about the social hierarchy of the high school that both Santana and I attended?"

"The jock and cheerleader types had unthinkable amounts of power to use against the sub classes and... I don't know, there was something about an absurd ritual involving icies."

"Slushies," Rachel automatically corrected. "Anyway, yes, that's pretty much how it was. Anyway," she took a heavy breath before blowing it out again, "I may have failed to mention that I was in one of the sub-classes. In fact, I was probably the very bottom of the social pyramid." Candace actually looked surprised. It was kind of nice. "Santana however, was one of the cheerleaders." Rachel honestly hadn't expected the reaction she got to that.

Candace was doubled over, laughing. "Oh my God! Santana Lopez was a cheerleader? With pompoms and the stupid little uniform and everything?" More laughter followed, "Oh man, the power lesbians would never let her live it down."

Rachel found herself split between emotions. She actually felt a little uncomfortable on Santana's behalf for the mocking. Then again, she also found it just a bit funny... It was when she thought that it would probably be alright so long as Candace didn't speak loud enough to draw Coach Sylvester's attention that she broke and started laughing along. She calmed down when she realized that she still had a point to make. "Moving on from that, what I'm saying is that Santana and I did not have a peaceful coexistence in high school. Granted she seems to be a much more mature and reasonable person, but that doesn't change the fact that things were said and done that I'd rather not mention."

"And you just took it?" Candace questioned. "Somehow that doesn't seem very much like you."

"For the most part I took the higher path and ignored it…" Rachel's expression turned sheepish, "I may have once implied that Santana's most likely future career would be in the adult entertainment industry."

"You said she was going to be a porn star?"

"…Stripper."

"Holy crap, insults and slushies from her and sassy criticism right back from you..." The other brunette finally grew more solemn after that, "Wow, I'd no idea. I really don't know what to say."

"Probably, 'you're welcome'," Rachel admitted while Candace gaped in confusion. "It was actually nice to catch up with her. And now I feel like I've put one of my personal demons to rest, made peace. It's a good feeling." She shrugged, "And who knows, perhaps I will give her a call when I get my first role and we can make some sort of distant friendship out of things." With that Rachel said goodbye and started off for class. She'd talked a little longer than she'd meant to and would have to hurry just a bit.

Candace was left staring after the jogging brunette. "But... I still think you'd be perfect for each other..."

* * *

><p>Santana did have to go a little out of her way in order to confront their matchmaker. She'd had to wait until after her classes were finished too, which meant that it was a few hours after Rachel's conversation with her. "Williams," was her greeting.<p>

"Somehow that lacked all the warmth of 'Hobbit Mark II'..." Candace had been expecting this conversation since she'd heard from Rachel. She just wasn't exactly sure what Santana's take would be.

"These days I only give nicknames to people I like. Hobbits are short and cute- well, in the movies anyway. Someday you may win back the honor, sometime after I've forgotten that you set me up with someone who has more reason to hate me than just about anyone else." Santana pushed her shoulders back a bit, "The list of people with reasons to hate me isn't that small, though recently I have only been adding ex-girlfriends to it, the list was substantial before I ever got to New York."

"So," Candace drawled, simultaneously deciding to play dumb and to mention no part of her conversation with Rachel- at least for as long as she could keep up the act, mostly for the amusement factor of it, "are you telling me that you and Rachel have some sort of history? Did you call her names? Oh!" Candace went wide eyed thinking that there was at least one person she knew who was shorter than her, "Is Rachel the original 'Hobbit'?"

"Possibly…" Santana's shifty eyes weren't fooling anyone. "Fine, yes, I called her 'hobbit' and a whole bunch of other things that were really horrible. Rachel's tough though, and all sorts of forgiving, so if it had just been that things would probably be ok- but it wasn't."

Candace lost it, her enormous peal of laughter confusing Santana who had obviously expected another reaction. "Oh man, I tried, but… but… haha, it was the slushy thing, right? I'm just imagining you _as a cheerleader_, dealing out punishment to the nerds via slushy. Geez, how much do you think was spent on that? If people were slushied nearly daily then it probably added up to hundreds of dollars over the course of the year."

The last statement finally knocked the perplexed scowl from Santana's face. "I know! That always used to bug the crap out of… wait. You know about the slushies," her shoulders slumped. "You've already talked to Rachel. God, I bet she gave you an earful. I'm surprised you didn't go running the other way."

"Name calling and syrupy money wasting," Candace shrugged. "She didn't say anything so very frightening."

Santana let out the breath she'd been holding. "Well then, there's a lot she didn't tell you. That was… nice of her. Still, she'd have to be crazy to date me after the stunts I pulled so I'm afraid that you're gonna have to give up on your 'perfect match'."

"Oh come one, what did you do that was so bad?" Candace challenged.

"Oh, let's see…" the Latina started, her voice full of sarcasm, "how 'bout when I got my best friend to help me convince her boyfriend to dump Rachel for us. Or maybe when I slept with the oaf, ensuring they wouldn't have their dreadfully romantic 'losing it' together thing. Of course, the time I told her about sleeping with him in front of as many witnesses as I could might have been the winner, really."

"… You slept with her boyfriend? Aren't you-"

"I had an awkward denial phase!" Santana cut her off.

"I'll say…"

"You don't know the half of it… And now I'd like to introduce you to my old friend, 'Awkward Silence'."

"Don't worry," Candace smirked, "we've met- believe me, we've met." They both smiled at that and it lightened the mood enough for the shorter girl to ask a question she'd wanted to the entire time, "So if it weren't for all this history, would you date her?"

Santana shrugged, "Sure. She's cute, sweet, but also a bit vicious." She laughed, "I could do a lot worse. I have done a lot worse! Hell, I could go after another blonde…"

The next time that Candace was left on her own, she wore a calculating expression. Maybe it was a long shot, but somehow all that history just made them even more perfect for each other in her mind. Santana needed someone to forgive her, not only seriously forgive her but love her as well. And Rachel needed someone who could handle her and who was just sadistic enough to be thrilled at the idea of unleashing her on the world. She bet they were both up to the jobs if they'd just let themselves.


	4. Give Me an Excuse

**Notes**: Our girls were being stubborn this chapter. Seriously, both of them... Anyway, this chapter's main purpose in life is to get them ready to interact _next_ chapter.  
>I skipped last chapter for this, but I do really appreciate the alerts and favorites. The reviews, of course, have a special soft spot in my heart. Thank you!<br>Last thing, I do my own editing so I am bound to miss things. I'd really like this story to be as good as possible, so if you notice a mistake don't hesitate to tell me. I shall sneak in (like a ninja) and make things right.

(Hoping to Give In, Just Give Me an Excuse)

It was officially Santana's weekend now, being 3:25 on Friday and her last class of the day inches behind her. It had been a pretty good day as well, possibly worth celebrating. It wasn't 'aced a final' level, or anything, but she had pulled a B+ on her essay in Prof Holcomb's. It didn't sound that impressive if you didn't know about him. The urban legend went that he weighed papers and that anything less than 3 lbs was an instant failure, and that everything else was some kind of C. He did have a hanging scale in his office that would be perfect for it. Of course, Santana knew that if there was an urban legend like that about her that she'd go out of her way to have a scale in her office as well just to mess with people.

So, celebrating. It couldn't be huge, because she still had shit to do. There were other classes, other papers, many, many other things. So, no huge ass party- not that she had space to throw one and she actually didn't know if/where one was being held tonight. She stopped for a moment and contemplated the sadness of that truth. Since when did Santana Lopez not know where the action was? She was able to shrug it off though, when she informed herself that any party thrown at this point during the semester was bound to be lame and not worth knowing about anyway.

But then, what? She thought about calling Rachel, bragging a bit and asking how things were progressing for her. But then, it seemed a little sad and weird to call someone who was really only a potential friend about an essay that wasn't even a final. She made a command decision not to call, and another one not to think too hard about that little feeling of disappointment. She really didn't need to drag anyone along with her. She'd just have a casual drink (ie- nurse one or two cocktails for several hours because one, the drinks there were almost too costly to justify and two, drunken Santana was a manifestation she was determined to leave in the past) at her favorite jazz themed bar. Maybe she'd even let the band talk her into doing a song with them. She was, after all, feeling generous.

* * *

><p>Rachel had mixed feelings about this move, not strong ones, just little reservations. Mostly it stemmed from the fact that she was still paid through the end of the semester for her ce… room. It was also the fact that even if she was really only taking two classes (and preparing for one hell of a concert), it wasn't exactly the summer after that she had envisioned moving during- the one where her stress was over and her fathers were in town to help with heavy lifting. Ricky had, however, found 'the perfect place'. She had to admit that it was well located and that they were totally going to be good for rent even with really crappy jobs between the four of them. And if you forgot how much it was going to suck when all four of them were tripping over each other in the two bedroom, one and a half bathroom apartment, you really could convince yourself that it was perfect.<p>

There wasn't actually that much lifting to do. She'd had little enough space to really collect things before and she wasn't asking her dads to send very many things to add to the new apartment. None of them had furniture so what they ended up with would likely be delivered from a nearby IKEA. She really just had to go back, box her things, maybe rope in _someone_ to hold a box or two on the train. She'd since decided that her initial thoughts on who to invite would be entire inappropriate. Somehow she didn't think, 'Hey, good to see you again! I need a favor...' would work that well. Even without help though, it was as good as done... Maybe she'd just sleep on it first, move tomorrow…

* * *

><p>It was two thirds of a drink and four songs into the evening and it was clearly not going the way Santana had envisioned. Her favorite band wasn't playing today. This band wasn't bad or anything, but there would be no not-really-drunken singing with them. It should have been fine but she found herself feeling disappointed. She should have called a friend. Checking out a jazz bar was surely a good enough excuse… well, it would have been if the awesome band who encouraged semi-drunken singing had been here.<p>

Santana was just thinking that she'd finish her current drink and call it a night when she heard the line courtesy of the presence beside her. The Latina swung only partially curious eyes over to see what she was dealing with. Her own lack of interest surprised her- since when was Santana Lopez not in the mood? But she so wasn't. She really should have invited a friend.

The girl was looking for a good time and she was looking for it in Santana's direction. The woman was undoubtedly attractive, and judging by the already half victorious look on her face, knew it too. Looking past the expression there were other signs to be observed: her stance, choice of openers, and hey, wasn't that a copy of Atlas Shrugged under her arm? Santana stirred her drink, putting together those and other traits she was able to notice at a glance and coming to the conclusion that she had been in that 'relationship'. Oh, she'd never seen this particular woman before, but she was of a certain kind, and Santana had dated a representative or four. "Date three, you dump a glass of water on my head, leaving me baffled as to what the hell I did wrong this time," she mumbles. At the shocked and slightly offended look the comment provokes she stands and adds more clearly, "Then again, you're blonde which tends to magnify the bad in my life. Maybe the glass would have acid in it instead."

Suddenly the woman was marching out and there were the remnants of a drink all over Santana's face. "And we weren't even going out…" It also struck her as somewhat amusing that she probably deserved this more than she had last time. This time she knew that she'd been rude, whereas she still didn't know what had set Victoria off. As she took a tissue from her purse and wiped the mix away she couldn't help thinking to herself that she should have called a friend.

* * *

><p>There were four boxes and one proper suitcase, all packed and ready to go. There was also a laptop bag, but since the computer in question was very much out (up and running) it couldn't be counted. Rachel hadn't been able to help it. There was a job to do and she'd done it. Of course, to be honest, most of it had already been done. Over the last week she'd gotten rid of everything she didn't want to move- throwing a lot of things away, and selling probably half of her textbooks back to the bookstore. The cash she'd gotten for said exchange was a little disappointing. She remembered spending a small fortune on those books. In return she had enough to either take herself out for a nice meal, or she could take a friend to a sort of nice meal.<p>

Rachel turned back to her laptop, hand leading the mouse to select the second page from her favorites. It was a site for actors to monitor auditions for off and off-off Broadway productions. It was a good site, listing which roles were still open and any information the directors had given out about what type they were looking for to fill it. So far Rachel had only gone to a handful of auditions, but she had made use of the information and from what she'd seen, it had been fully accurate.

It would be nice to have a role, any role that she'd be paid for. Though an honor to be in a Julliard production, she still had been technically paying **them**. First of all, there was the cash, and the implications of grocery money that didn't involve utilizing the food handler's permit she'd grudgingly gotten over three years ago when she'd been forced to admit that her plans just weren't going to work without factoring in summer jobs. Speaking of making money, the value of having your first role under your belt when looking to further a career was another thing that was simply undeniable. There were the bragging rights too. She loved hearing the pride in her fathers' voices when she told them her good news. She also loved hearing the envy and grudging happiness for her in Kurt's voice.

She wondered what she'd hear in Santana's voice if she could tell her about having a part in a professional play... The singer abruptly stopped thinking about it, or at least tried to, lingering for a moment on the idea that it would be a fantastic excuse to call before turning her full concentration back to the lists on her screen. She'd been officially fully diverted by the prospect of being in a off (off-off) Broadway production of Rocky Horror when her phone rang.


	5. Sometimes It Is Pt 1

**Notes:** This section is another that ended up being much longer than I thought it would be. I've decided to break it into two parts and this first section is still the longest chapter I've posted so far. I hope the extra words are a nice surprise. :)  
>Again, I hugely appreciate it every time someone shows their interest and support inof this story. momo0424 and ellowyntinuviel: You guys are especially heroic for reviewing last chapter.

(Sometimes a Date Isn't a Date- and Sometimes It Is. Part 1)

"Hey, Rachel. So, here's the thing: I don't really have a reason for calling. But then I got dumped by someone I'd never met before, let alone dated and I figured that the universe really doesn't care about reasons or making sense at all. Want to catch lunch tomorrow, in celebration of the 'what the hell-ness' of life?"

Rachel felt the laugh punch through her throat and mouth in a tiny burst of confused joy. "Well, far be it from me to argue with the lessons of the universe." She smiled, "I'm glad you called, reason or not."

"Well, there might be a reason," Santana admitted, "if not a huge one. A few weeks ago a friend of mine told me about this vegan friendly Chinese place that she swears by. You still do that, the whole vegan thing? Anyway," she continued without giving Rachel a proper chance to reply, "I haven't gotten around to trying it and I thought I'd see if you wanted to catch lunch tomorrow."

A beat of silence passed while Rachel fought between amusement at Santana's rapid fire delivery and a bubbly, alien thought that the offer sounded way more like a date than she knew it was. She let herself laugh again to disperse the feeling in her stomach, "To answer your first question- I'm still a vegetarian, but I've relaxed a little on the full on veganism." Santana couldn't see the self-deprecating smile but she could almost hear it in the next sentence, "I just make sure to feel really good about it when I do bother to be properly vegan."

"I'll bet," the Latina laughed with her and noted silently once more how much nicer it felt than laughing at her ever had.

"And going back to your first question and its later addendum," Rachel continued, a bit of a sneaky plan forming as she spoke, "I would love to 'catch lunch' with you tomorrow and try out this mystery restaurant. I do have some things to do... finish up moving and all that..." She was going for 'natural' with the pauses, "It might make me a bit on the late side but I could call you when I was finished..?"

Santana smirked at her phone. She knew that voice and what it meant. "Are you trying to ask me to help you move without having to actually ask me to help you move?"

Caught, Rachel admitted it gracefully, "It's possible..." well, sort of gracefully, anyway.

"Well," Santana drawled, "it's your lucky day. See, now that I don't have Sylvesterian inspiration to maintain my Sue-perior strength, I've made it part of my exercise program to randomly help people move from time to time. I'm due for it- in the name of physical awesomeness."

"Now that's what I call a worthy cause and I'd gladly put forward my moving project to such an end." They both laughed at the obvious and absurd lies they were spouting. From there they settled on a time and place to meet the next day. Both of them went to bed feeling less disappointed about the day.

* * *

><p>Wearing jeans and what looked like it had been a plain t-shirt before it had been painted in, Santana had arrived ready to work. She also had her hair pulled up in a ponytail that made Rachel's memory briefly flash to the teenage cheerleader Santana had been.<p>

The singer came out of the memory with the thought that she really didn't think it was fair the student of social sciences had only become more attractive since then. "Do you paint?" Rachel had blurted out the question purely for something to say.

Santana laughed, "No, and this shirt bears witness to the reason why. Never again," she finished with exaggerated (but slightly serious) solemnity. "Alright, where's…" the question died on her lips as Santana saw the obvious 'to be moved' pile. "That it?"

A short nod confirmed it, "I didn't _really_ need help, but the idea of only having to take one trip, and not being alone on public transit with my hands full of half my worldly possessions was entirely too tempting.

"That's smart," Santana said while bobbing her head in acknowledgement. Then she smirked, "Though this just means that there will be two people on public transit with their hands full of all your worldly belongings. Still," she relented, "strength in numbers is always a good idea, especially when moving."

* * *

><p>The two had just finished setting Rachel's belongings in the now less empty and even smaller apartment. It turned out that said apartment was in the same area of town as EverGreen, the restaurant Santana had mentioned before, so they were walking instead of getting a cab or risking another bus ride- the last one of those had involved them carrying too many things and being stuffed between too many people and both women wanted to put off that particular mode of transportation for a while.<p>

"So," Santana started, "your apartment is… something. How many people did you say were going to live there again?"

Rachel laughed, "Four. And yes, I'm aware that the conditions may well lead to homicide due to lack of space- and bathroom time." They rounded the corner that put them on the same street as EverGreen. "Luckily the inside looks a lot better than the outside. It might be a little uncomfortable, but I think it's entirely livable."

Santana nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. Then she saw the establishment they were looking for, "And speaking of buildings that are hopefully nicer on the inside than on the out…"

It was Rachel's turn to nod in agreement this time. The EverGreen restaurant did not have a cheerful exterior. They ducked in just as another man was leaving and the petite diva would have run into him if not for a discrete bit of guidance in the form of Santana's hand on the small of her back. As soon as she'd felt it though, the contact was over, the Latina looked as if she hadn't done anything remotely proprietary. Rachel decided to shrug it off as an automatic impulse and also decided that perhaps she wouldn't tease the other woman about it- mostly because she suspected she'd be called out for the simple fact that she may have possibly liked it the teensiest of little bits.

When she did get a chance to look around, Rachel decided that the interior was better than the exterior, but not that much better. Still, hideous looking places often had the best food so it could be a good sign. A different type of sign, one on a stand at the front of the place, directed them to seat themselves and so they did. It didn't take long before an extremely skinny Asian woman to come by with menus and an offer to get drinks.

Santana, unlike Rachel who had perused the menu for just moments before making her choice, looked at the items with some suspicion. She'd had tasty vegan things. She knew they existed… She'd also tried some things that had no business masquerading as food. As she looked for something safe her eyes found what looked like the perfect thing. She liked mushrooms, after all, and sesame chicken was one of those dishes that always seemed to be decent- even at the entirely white "Chinese" place on Swift St in Lima (Not to be confused with the one Mike's family had run that was far superior). So, when the waitress retuned for their order, Santana stated, "Sesame mushrooms," with conviction after Rachel had put in her own order for curry with tofu.

"I haven't asked about it." Santana had no idea what Rachel was talking about, but it was ok as there was more to come. "I've been wondering since last night when I got this excellently strange phone call- but I haven't known how to bring it up." She took a good sized breath, "I've come to the conclusion that I should just ask. So… how did you break up with someone you weren't dating?"

Now it made sense; in fact, Santana had been sort of expecting this question a lot earlier. It was kind of nice to have been given the distance since it became less annoying and funnier all the time. She smiled at the thoughtfulness before dutifully answering. "Well, it wasn't so much actually being dumped as it just felt like it. You see, she just reminded me of an ex, which led to me being ruder than I needed to be, which led in turn to her dumping a drink over my head. The amazing thing was that it was just about exactly how said ex had ending things. Seriously, it was like a 3-D, water effects included flashback."

Rachel didn't quite laugh but she made that sort of pouty half smile people did when they were holding one back. It was more absurd than actually funny, but still. She shook her head, "Well, at least you can't say that you haven't experience one of the dating world's clichés… twice."

"Ah contraire," Santana corrected happily, "I've experienced far more than one type of clichéd breakup multiple times. Why do you think Candace took me on as a project?" She answered her own question, "Because I _am_ the Breakup Queen." The Latina smiled, expecting a chuckle.

Instead, Rachel was looking at her contemplatively. "I guess there had to be a reason but I've got to admit that it's hard to see."

The sincerity of the comment hit Santana in all the places she kept her guilt from who she'd forced herself to be in Lima. "Rae…" But really, she didn't want this to turn all serious, and besides, she didn't really know what to say. But then she had a simple but brilliant idea- humor and honesty. "You know, I left Lima feeling all kinds of experienced. In some ways I was… in some ways I was a little too experienced. But here's the thing…" She trailed off on the favorite phrase for effect, "I moved out here and came to the stunning conclusion that my amazing knowledge in the ways of getting a teenage boy to respond to a booty call did not necessarily translate into being able to maintain a relationship with anyone who… well, wasn't a teenage boy who'd been promised sex." She nodded sagely, as if she'd just said something astonishingly philosophical and finally got the laugh she'd been expecting before.

"Well, OK, when you put it like that…" Rachel conceded. "I have to admit, the things I did in Lima that I thought would be pertinent to my future turned out not to be the ones that helped shape my experiences."

"Oh? That's quite a lead in, Rachel." Santana leaned forward with interest, entirely distracted from the fact that the service was now officially on the slow side. "You'd better back that up with a story or two."

To Rachel's surprise she wanted to tell her stories. She wanted to hear Santana laugh at them. She wanted to laugh about them herself. Somehow that concept felt more like moving on than anything else. "Happily. Where to start… Ha! As if it was really a choice," her hands started moving expressively as she started her narrative. "I once had this conversation with Kurt, after I sort of, well… drunkenly kissed his boyfriend."

"I remember that!"

"I was afraid of that," Rachel sighed. "Anyway, so afterwards Kurt tells me that Blaine is just the first in a long line of gay men that I would kiss over the course of my life." She sipped her water before continuing, "You can either put it up to Kurt being prescient, or me just fitting so well into the stereotype laid out for me by the greats and all of their wannabe's throughout the ages."

Santana actually managed to keep her face entirely serious as she said, "Wow, Kurt could foresee the future. Wild." A second later the grin she was holding back won. "Haha, OK, maybe not. But, gay guys, huh?"

"It's amazing," Rachel marveled, "just how obvious it becomes _after_ you've tried to have a relationship with someone. It somehow doesn't make the experience that much better when you're also kicking yourself for being oblivious along with the whole lonely and rejected thing." She shook her head, "But at least I could think of Blaine and remember how I got through that!"

"Oh?" Santana couldn't really think of anything happening after the party incident, "Uh, how _did_ you? I mean, I guess I just assumed that you shrugged it off as a drunken party sort of thing."

"I realized that would have been the smarter option about an hour later, however…" Rachel rolled her eyes at her younger self, "He was a cute boy and I always made too much of an effort over cute boys that showed any inclination towards kissing me back then. So, the next day I told Kurt that I was going to go for it and I did. I kissed Blaine again, he decided that he was well and truly gay, and that was more or less the end of it."

"So…" Santana nudged, "dealing?"

"Oh, right! Dealing with it was actually really easy, because my interest in him paled to what I've since decided was a rather embarrassing crush on the high school quarterback, and it paled even more to my love of drama and music." They laughed for a minute over the truth of that statement, Rachel even more than Santana- possibly because a silly song about being an only child was rattling around in her head. "Granted, the other times I went after men who weren't interested I was a bit more invested. I could still think about it and honestly tell myself that I still loved music and where I was heading in my life more than I was heartbroken over the relationship that wasn't. It didn't feel great but it was hardly crushing."

And that was when their lunch arrived…


	6. Sometimes It Is Pt 2

**Notes**: Once again, my undying gratitude for the shows of love in alerts, favorites, and most of all- reviews!  
>There are a legion of vegan Chinese restaurants across the nation named Evergreen. The one that I went to was not in New York and therefore anything I say about the food there doesn't apply to that establishment. I did go to an Evergreen Cafe when visiting a friend (I'm not telling where it was). I ordered sesame mushrooms...<p>

(…And Sometimes It Is Part 2)

The curry, in Rachel's rarely humble opinion, was absolutely average. Looking across the table she had reason to believe that she'd never been so pleased to be presented with average.

Santana's eyes had only been as wide as they currently were on a few occasions as she looked at the black mass on the plate she'd been handed. She wondered, was that really sesame sauce? It'd never looked black before... And there was something odd about the mushrooms as well... "Wait, are these just the stems?"

"Oh," Rachel answered, "yeah, there's some argument about mushrooms among vegans, whether fungus is more plant or animal. Some compromise that the head is more fungishly animal like while the stems are just planty goodness."

"And just how," Santana enunciated carefully, "does this act of decapitation save the little severed heads?"

This perplexed the little brunette. She had dismissed the debate as sort of silly and hadn't really thought about it. "Uh... actually, I can't think of how they're actually helping the mushrooms out by cutting off and throwing the heads away." She shrugged, "Sorry. Is it... ok?" Rachel had tried to say 'good' but it just seemed so unlikely.

Of course, Santana had yet to actually try the meal. She took a bite and chewed... and chewed some more, swallowing with some difficulty. She found that she'd worked so hard at swallowing the food that she hadn't actually noticed what it tasted like. The second bite she did taste, also the third that she took after telling herself that maybe it was the kind of food that grew on you. After all, she was the one who had come to love the bread sticks that other Ohioans had been known to call 'awful'. After her fourth bite she'd come to a firm decision. "It doesn't just look like tar; it really does taste like it. I cannot eat this. I'm so sorry, Rachel. Is yours as bad as mine?"

Rachel was torn between amusement and pity. The Latina's face was just so terribly expressive… "From your reaction I'm going to guess that my lunch was superior. It was gloriously mediocre rather than cringe inspiring."

"Ah, well, in that case: victory," Santana deadpanned. Seeing that in the time she'd taken struggling first with the idea of her food and then against the food itself, that Rachel seemed to have eaten the best of what had been brought to her, she suggested, "Let's get the hell out of here."

There was a slight confrontation with the waitress/cashier on the way out. The woman seemed baffled by the thought that someone would dislike their food. It was quickly resolved. Santana paid for Rachel's lunch as an apology for the experience and no one paid for the 'mushroom stems in tar sauce'.

"Want to get something else?" Rachel offered.

Santana shook her head, "No, actually, that stuff was kind of amazingly filling, in a 'led in your stomach' sort of way."

"Want to walk it off?"

This offer was met with more enthusiasm, "Yes. Please." They started walking a very scenic route back to Rachel's new apartment that often involved going in the wrong direction entirely. For the most part they spent the time in companionable silence, taking in the sights of a new corner of the city that had become their home. Occasionally one or the other would point something or someone out, either being informative or merely amusing. When they came to the front of a business with a particularly charming courtyard including a tall fountain they stopped to sit on the stone ledge by unspoken but mutual decision.

A few moments were spent staring at the water as both were lost in separate thoughts before Santana decided to break the silence. "I'll trade you," she started, "a thought process for a thought process." When Rachel responded with a quirky smile she went for the obvious joke with a parody of a suggestive eyebrow wiggle along with deepening her voice slightly, "I'll show you mine…"

Rachel not so lightly smacked the other woman on the arm, but the scolding nature of the gesture was more or less countered by her laughter. "I agree to your exchange of 'thought processes," she chuckled again. She didn't stop smiling entirely, but her face did take on a bit more of a serious cast. "I was kind of reminiscing about high school, glee club and all that, but mostly I was thinking about something Mr Schue said during… junior year?" She nodded, "Mm, that's right. We were juniors when we did _Born This Way_. Anyway," she waved away the digression, "he said that someday I'd find someone who loved what I hated about myself, that they'd love those things most."

"Yeah, you totally will." Santana didn't remember the moment, but she agreed with their old teacher, "You probably hate dumb things about yourself that are easy to love." The Latina smiled, "I remember, the 'Nose'… Santana shook her head, lost in another memory. "Back when we were in elementary, I think about ten years old, this jerk of a kid told Brittany that she had a big nose. Brits cried about it, upset just because hers wasn't a tiny, pointy thing like Quinn's. It was totally adorable though." The next part of the story required Santana to shake her head again, this time at herself, "Being the charmer I was, I told her that it was good because having a larger nose made the ducks more comfortable with you… yeah, I really probably shouldn't be allowed to date anyone who's inclined to actually believe me. But hey, at least she stopped thinking she wasn't beautiful."

During the entirety of Santana's speech, Rachel had felt her eyebrows crawling slowly up her forehead. She wasn't even quite sure what to react to more. Certainly, since they'd met in that coffee shop Santana had been nothing but kind, but for her to blatantly be so positive about the singer's lovability was still a bit of a shock. Then, the concept of Brittany possessing, let alone being called out on a physical flaw was something else she'd never imagined happening. The blonde was one of the beautiful people, and yet, Rachel realized, the dancer's nose had been a little larger than her two Cheerio cohorts in Glee- and no one had cared or thought her less beautiful. Santana hadn't cared or thought her less beautiful. Rachel's smile was nothing short of brilliant, "Face it, you love a good schnoz."

Santana's laugh came out in a 'pft' that made her glad she hadn't been drinking. "Maybe I do, 'Nose Pride' woman. But remember your little 'Fabray-ic' moment of nose envy?" Her voice was faux-accusing. "Maybe you just have a thing for daintily nosed blondes. Or maybe," she drew out the word, "you just had a little thing for Quinn. You know, that old cliché, love between rivals…"

"Well, she was an extremely pretty girl…" Rachel couldn't keep a straight face, "Oh my God, can you imagine how histrionic a relationship between teenage versions of myself and Quinn Fabray would have been? We'd never have had any other glee lessons because we'd be too busy singing angry breakup songs and sappy 'forgive me' numbers every single week." That sounded distinctly like absolute truth and Santana was kind of glad that the girl in question had said it first. Rachel had more to say though, and Santana was happy to let her continue. "Well, it's possible that I had some little, repressed thing for Quinn back then. I did basically think of her as the definition of 'attractive'. Mainly, I suspect, because I thought so poorly of my own appearance and Quinn was more or less my opposite." Rachel had a much better sense of self these days and had accepted herself as a certain type who appealed to some more than others. She was often found 'cute' and she could totally work with that. Right now, she decided, she just had to not think too much about the fact that a 'good nose' could totally be part of Santana's type. "It's truly amazing the number of things that insecurity can define for us."

Not being truly ready for _that_ conversation, Santana instead continued an earlier one. "Blondes." The word somehow became a statement in itself. "Too much trouble, I'm telling you. Maybe I've just had rotten luck but… Well, let's put it this way, Brittany is the only one I've dated who wasn't horrible or crazy. And she was the first ever person to break my heart, so she doesn't get spared from the list." She looked up and away, as if communicating with the absent blonde, "Sorry, Britts."

"Hey…" Rachel felt hesitant to bring this particular thing up, but she was also really curious. "Is it awkward, staying in touch with her? You know, Brittany, after dating and breaking up and just... everything?"

Santana tilted her head to the side, considering before deciding just to answer honestly. "It can be. Sometimes we talk and it feels like we're so far away and that we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about. Then sometimes we'll just fall into a conversation and it's like we've always been close. It's like we were always best friends and never did anything half as confusing as the mess we made of things." She had answered, but fair was fair. "You didn't mention him, but do you ever talk to Finn, after everything that happened between you two?"

Another laugh was the initial answer. "Oh no, I eventually realized that it's a horrible idea for me to try to remain friends with ex-boyfriends."

"Ah," Santana countered, "but you said yourself that you keep in touch with Puck."

Rachel waved a hand at that, "It's just like when you drop food on the ground. Puck's covered by the 'ten second' rule since that's approximately how long we dated." They both laugh at that, the image of Puck as a debatably clean item of food being a dearly absurd one.

When Santana stood to stretch, Rachel stood as well and looked at her watch. "Oh wow, we've been talking for a while." She nodded towards the sidewalk, "Should we continue?" Santana nodded and this time they chose a course that led more directly to their destination.

A few minutes passed before Rachel spoke again, "I did run into Finn once, a little over a year ago. It was at something or other of Kurt's." It wasn't that she'd forgotten what the event was; it just didn't seem important enough for the story to explain it to Santana. "I wasn't that pleased to see him, but then I realized that he was there because even though they don't share a house anymore that he's still serious about being a brother to Kurt. And I figured: that's more important than any of our silly drama. He's grown up, I've moved on, and if I just think of him as Kurt's brother, any grudge I might have had just isn't there."

At first Santana didn't say anything. An awkward night in a crappy motel room had pretty much made it impossible for her and the boy to be friends. But Rachel had a point, if she thought of Finn as the guy who was serious about being a brother to one of the gayest men she'd ever had the fortune to know, well, maybe she could forgive him too. "Yeah, I get it."

The companionable silence they'd shared before stays between them until they're standing in front of Rachel's door. That's when the shorter woman remembered, "Hey, you never shared your original 'thought process'!"

Santana grinned mischievously, "Oh, I was just reimagining _Night of the Living Dead_ starring severed mushroom heads."

Rachel grinned too at the silly image. It was adorable in a strange, strange way. Scary and adorable actually seemed to be a good description for all things Santana, she mused. "Well, I think this is where we call it a day, so I'm just going to warn you, I'm going to hug you now." She cringed, remembering the phrase from her awkward attempts at friendliness in high school but that faded as she felt Santana hugging her back and chuckling in her ear. It felt just a bit too nice.

For her part, Santana was desperately trying to remember the length of time it was socially acceptable to hold a friend. Surely a few minutes wouldn't be out of the question…


	7. Two Loons to a Room

**Notes**: As always, thank you for the encouragement: alerts, favorites, and especially reviews.

(Meet the 'Stage' Family, or Two Loons to a Room)

It was not a full minute before the sound of a door being thrown open shocked the two women apart. Though aware that Rachel was going to have roommates, the idea that any of them would be here _today_ had not once occurred to Santana. Sadly, it hadn't occurred to Rachel either.

"I knew I'd heard someone out here, someone whose voice sounded suspiciously like the dulcet tones of Rachel Berry, and of course, someone whose voice sounded decidedly not," a young, almost dangerously skinny man announced, wiggling his eyebrows for effect. Santana felt there was something familiar about him. Neither she nor Rachel managed to say anything before the deceptively strong man had ushered them inside. "Guys, come and meet Rachel's-"

"Friend!" The little brunette interrupted desperately. At this second she couldn't imagine a situation more awkward than having to explain, in front of Santana, that no, the gorgeous Latina was not, in fact, her girlfriend and would you please refrain from either laughing or looking as if the world has started making sense again. "Santana's an old... friend." The hesitation wouldn't really help, but at the word 'old' she realized that it was sort of a lie. "And," she realized that good manners would be a fabulously convenient way to move the conversation on, "of course, Santana, this is-"

"The Ghost of Hummels Past," it was Santana's turn to interrupt, wide eyed as she realized who she'd been reminded of.

The man huffed, "It's _Brett_. I have never met Kurt Hummel, but one day I may have to murder him." At this point Brett started muttering under his breath, "people making assumptions… stupid stereotypes… stupid boys that live inside of them…"

Rachel outright laughed at him then turned to Santana, "I had almost exactly the same reaction to him. Poor guy," she shook her head empathetically, "imagine starting out every conversation with a new person, 'no, I'm not actually gay, I just dress that way'." Rachel made sure to keep smiling fondly at her friend the entire time she teased him. He was just one of those guys who'd have made an excellent lesbian.

Santana also shook her head slightly, "'Stupid stereotypes' is right. If a guy can't be metro in New York City then… well, what kinda sense does that make? None at all," she winked at Rachel, reminding the other woman of the phrase from the previous night's phone call.

"Exactly!" Brett exclaimed, beaming at Santana like the pure light of logic incarnate. "Oh Rach," he turned to his friend, "I like this one. Now, where did you say you'd met?"

Of course she hadn't said and Brett knew it. So long as she made it the short version she couldn't see anything wrong with the truth. "We actually grew up in the same town. We weren't that close for most of the time, but in high school we were in glee club together."

"Oh, surely not!" A deep voiced boomed from one of the bedroom doorways. Two more people, a man and a woman, had joined them and had apparently seen this as the perfect moment to announce their presence. The man was a huge, Viking of a man, at least 6'3" and quite heavy. He would never be a leading man, but with that voice Santana could easily believe that for a certain type of character role he wouldn't have much serious competition.

"Yeah, not a member of _the_ McKinley High glee club," this sarcasm laced comment was from the woman, who was a tall, African American and one of the most overtly beautiful women Santana had ever seen. She felt a sense of déjà vu as she once again was able to 'categorize' the person in front of her. Confident, hot, abrasive but also thick skinned, she was also straight but if she was a B version of this particular type she'd be the kind that if it sounded fun might experiment for a night anyway. On the average day Santana would have gone for it, just for the combined factors of low risk and hotness. Hell, it occurred to Santana that she was pretty much the C version of this type (for which you removed the word 'straight'). Also like the night before, she just couldn't be bothered to be interested. Unlike last time however, instead of being slightly annoyed at her own indifference, she was actually a little relieved. Now she really did have to wonder what was going on with herself.

With one eyebrow raised the Latina decided to reply to that one. "Oh, were we famous? Did I miss the bit where we were famous? Damn…"

Brett stepping forward to answer didn't stop Santana from seeing that Rachel was blushing, "But of course you're famous! Why, Rachel never failed to mention the superior New Directions every time something wasn't going perfectly in a rehearsal." Santana burst out laughing at the idea that Rachel had ever considered their group 'perfect'.

"It's possible…" Rachel was actually using one toe to sheepishly draw circles on the ground in front of her, "that I've somewhat idealized that time of my life… but!" And now she was looking up, shoulders straight, "It's still true that New Directions did some very impressive numbers, particularly for a high school group."

"You got that right," Santana couldn't help fully agree. "In fact, we were kind of scary good from what I've heard about a lot of other schools. I mean, if you think about it, the fact that we had so many really good people in our group, and that there was still enough talent left in _Ohio_ for us to have serious competition? It's a pretty wild thought."

It was true; there was an extremely good chance that there would be three professional musicians from their graduating class. Rachel likewise couldn't deny the talent in groups like the Warblers or Vocal Adrenaline. Thinking of talent and competition, she was really hoping that the Sunshine incident wouldn't be mentioned… "I have a theory about that, actually. It involves strategically placed Oberlin dropouts and less successful alumni." True or not, no one could say that the presence of the conservatory could hurt the Ohio music scene.

"Hmm," the black woman purred, contemplatively. "So, what's your name, and what brings you to New York?" The question was _so close_ to being casual. "Of course, I should go first, I'm Tanya, and the big guy's Chris."

Chris nodded to Santana which she returned. She was just about to speak when she caught a delightfully evil look on Rachel's face. She didn't interrupt when the little diva took over the introduction.

"As I told Brett moments before you came out, this is Santana Lopez. What I didn't get to was telling you why she's moving to our lovely city." Oh, there was going to be some interesting fiction told here and Santana had a theory about where Rachel was going with this. "Santana, accomplished singer and dancer that she is, now with a finished degree, has come to try her luck on the Broadway scene! Don't you think she'd make a magnificent femme fatale?"

She really tried to keep a straight face, but looking between Rachel's bright, faux-proud smile, and the simmering (or possibly boiling) rage on Tanya's face she couldn't help it. Even as her brow and mouth were twisting with amusement she exclaimed, "Damn, Rae! You must hold a grudge after all, setting me up for your roomie to kill like that." She turned to Tanya and failed to hold back one, clipped laugh before she made a noble attempt at straightening out her face. "She's pulling your leg. I'm an Anthro major, been at NYU for a few years now and I have absolutely no interest in a career on Broadway."

The relief was so sudden and so palpable that more than one of them laughed. Actually, more than one of them _giggled_, something that one Rachel Berry seemed to be guilty of, "Did you see her face? She totally had the 'this one must go down' face! Sorry San, but I did think it was something you should see."

Santana found Rachel's smile infectious. "Heh, yeah, it did sort of bring back old times. You know, often that look did the job without you having to go through anymore effort. Just like magic…" She couldn't quite believe that Rachel was voluntarily signing on to live with someone who had all the makings of the kind of HBICs that had been so cruel to the girl. Still, she had to admit that Rachel had never really caved under their crap and these days she seemed to be happily holding her own.

As they talked, mostly about the sorts of nothing you talk about with people you don't really know, Santana made a decision. All three of them, no, all four of them, were nuts. They were amazingly, beautifully insane and every single one of them was going to make it and inspire young crazies. She was certain; Rachel Berry's name was going to be on the lips of a generation of people who shone just a little too bright for the rest of the world to understand them.

"Oh," Rachel said with wide eyes at a chance glance at a clock which must have been hung sometime after she'd left the apartment earlier. "Uhm, Santana, you said you had some things to do, didn't you? I mean, it's been a great day and I'd never kick you out but it has been a _lot_ longer than I think you originally intended..."

Looking at that same clock Santana confirmed, "Oh. Yeah. It totally is." She didn't have tons to do but there was always, at the least, reading to be done on a weekend. Besides, welcomes were a lot better when you didn't have a habit of overstaying them. "I really should get going. You're right though, it was a fantastic day," then moving her eyes from Rachel to pass over her strange ensemble of friends, "and it was great to meet all of you." And as an afterthought, "Hey, take care of her, alright?"

With smiles, agreements and farewells the Latina was sent on her way. The door had even been closed for at least ten seconds before Chris turned in a surprisingly graceful arc to face the tiny diva. "Oh, _that_ looks promising. What's the plan? Slow seduction? Or are you planning on yanking the floor out from underneath her, a surprise attack into a whirlwind of passion?"

Brett shook his head, "If you weren't a bearded barbarian, no one would ever think I was gayer than you..."

For her part, Rachel looked almost gob smacked. When they hadn't said anything in front of Santana she had been sure that any suspicions of that kind had been dropped. "...You do recall the bit where I said we were friends? Seriously, we've hung out twice and had some fun reminiscing and catching up. You can't tell me that you saw a single sign of more than friendly interest between us." That statement was firm, which was great, because Rachel meant it- just so long as you didn't count the silly and unimportant fact that she did find the mature Santana outrageously attractive and also interesting. That didn't matter though because she could absolutely stand back and say, 'sure, if things were different', but they weren't different so she simply shrugged and moved on.

"Yes, we can." The three voices in (pitch perfect) unison threw her a bit.

"Shall we start with her or you?" Chris asked, feigning casualness in a typical pose of examining the nails of one hand. It looked absurd, and it was also one of the things his friends loved most about him.

"Oh, start with Santana, we can get to Rachel's denial later," Brett opined while Tanya hmm'd in agreement.

"Alright, fine," Rachel rolled her eyes, "tell me what you imagine you saw Santana doing."

"I'll tell you one thing I didn't imagine," Tanya started, "that girl's gay, am I right?" Rachel nodded in confirmation. "She didn't hit on me. She didn't even think about it."

That was true, Rachel had to admit, but maybe the Santana of these days just wasn't a huge flirt. There was a good chance she was actually kind of sick of the trials of dating. "Her not flirting with you doesn't make _that_ huge of a statement. Besides, she's obviously been given reason to be wary of the dating scene since she's made Candace's hit list." Her friends' eyes lit up and Rachel knew that mentioning that little fact had not worked in her favor.

"Interesting," Chris drawled, "but, on to the next thing I was going to mention..."

Brett cut him off, "It wouldn't happen to be the sickeningly fond look she was giving our little _Rae-,_ cute nickname by the way- would it?"

"Indeed it would!" The large man was obviously pleased by the assist, rather than offended by the cut in.

Fond look? Rachel thought, where had they been looking? It was official, "The four of us have watched far, far too many old romance films."

"Never!" Brett looked at three pairs of raised eyebrows and blushed.

"Tell me this," the nearly vicious look on Tanya's face was actually a little worrying, "if she did want you, what would you do? Be honest now."

Rachel grumbled and sighed, knowing she was going to have to over share in order to have this done with. "You know how long it's been. If someone like Santana wanted me..." She wished she couldn't imagine it, but somehow she could see it rather vividly, "I'd probably injure myself trying to get naked before she changed her mind."

"Someone _like _Santana?" It was Chris who spoke though they'd all picked up the wording and its implication.

After rolling her eyes and breathing out a long breath, Rachel leveled with them. "Look, Santana's great and I'm really glad that we seem to be friends, but more than that is just never going to happen. There's a bunch of weird history that I really don't want to dredge up. I don't want you to judge either of us because of stupid things that were done when we were children. All the same, please trust me; there is history and… well… it's not going to happen."

Tanya raised her hands in a sign of surrender, a gesture that the men quickly moved to follow. "Alright, we'll let it go." And when the other woman had to get in one last shot, Rachel understood that it was simply a part of who she was, "And hey, I'm sure it won't be too hard for Candace Williams to find someone for her and then it won't even be an option."

Rachel knew exactly what the comment was: one last thing to be the final word, a bit of a tease, maybe a backhanded piece of encouragement. It was slightly evil yet still well meant. And it bothered her a lot more than she wanted it to.


	8. Sneaking In

**Notes:** I don't feel right if I don't say it, so- thank you for the support via alert, favorite, and especially review. You're some awesome people.

(Sneaking in to See How the Other Half Lives)

It was three weeks after their strange but fortuitous reunion and life had more or less carried on for both of them the same as it always had except for a couple tiny things. There'd been a handful of 'I was in the area' coffee offers and a couple of 'I just thought I'd see how you were doing' calls. In the case of either event there were inevitably friends who would know when one or the other had caved who would make far too much out of it. There was also some late night contemplation going on, in both parts of the city. People said things; you had to think about them, right?

Rachel found her mind turning things over even though she wasn't in the not-really-privacy of not-really-just-her room. But that was neither here nor there, and the thoughts that were currently racing through her head were all about her upcoming senior recital. It was such a strange thing. She'd never heard of anyone 'failing' their senior recital, but at the same time she couldn't help but feel it really was the culmination of her time at Julliard. It was her chance as well as her task to prove she had the talent, had done the work, and that she could really do it, just her, the band, and a stage, in front of possibly the most discerning audience she would ever be faced with.

The songs were good, well chosen for her voice and also for the contrast yet complimentary quality of each. Her preparation was solid, the songs not just memorized but _known_ on a level that she could not just tell you what they really meant to say, emotionally, but she was convinced that she could show you. The scheduling, as far as her family and friends were concerned, was perfect. And she was still fussing about it, because 'what if?' There were a hundred, stupid, pointless things that 'what if?' invoked and sometimes a performer had to think about them. Honestly, it helped to play the terrible 'what if?' game earlier on in the process just so you could get it over with and not let it mess with you when the chips were about to be down.

So, for a while Rachel indulged in thinking up wild scenarios, arguing against them, and making up contingency plans that she knew she'd never need. Then she decided that no practicing was going to get done and she might as well fuss about the _other_ thing that was going through the back of her mind. She strode off, confident that it would be entirely natural for her to just happen to be passing through the specific bit of courtyard where she knew her target would be.

* * *

><p>Candace was a busy woman. Still, three weeks after 'the date' she'd had a few opportunities to think about 'the couple who could if they'd get off their butts and would' and what kind of push was needed to get them started. She'd come up with… absolutely nothing, well, nothing usable. She may like romantic comedies but she was a long way from crazy enough to actually consider them as sources of advice.<p>

"Why, hello Candace!" The voice was a shade more keen than normal. This meant there was a question, a favor, or a confession to come. The slightly taller woman internally rubbed her hands together in delight.

"Rachel! Fancy meeting you here," she joked, meaning both that they shared a campus and also that it was pretty standard for one or both of them to be around this spot at this time of day. "So, what's up?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Rachel waved a hand. "I had to get away from the practice rooms before I decided to change my program to a tribute to Charles Ives, only this time with more kazoo."

They laughed together and Candace knew that Rachel was being at least partly sincere. She obviously had needed to get away from the all-consuming recital. It was the truth; it wasn't the full truth but it was the truth. "We wouldn't want that. I mean, I'm pretty sure that Dr. Miller put a ban on kazoos after Leo's re-imagination of Alberich's encounter with the Rheinmaidens."

"I think you're right…" The trail off was really a lead in and they both knew it. "So… I don't know, but I guess I've been a little curious. I mean," she paused, "I know things didn't really work out like you wanted with Santana and me," she shrugged in a playfully contrite fashion. "Do you think you'll try to set her up with someone else or just let that one go?" Rachel kept her cringe on the inside. It wasn't the right thing to say. She was practically _challenging_ the other woman to find another match for Santana. And, much worse of course, she sounded like a fool!

The word 'perfect!' was resounding in Candace's mind. It was so telling that Rachel was asking about dates for Santana and obviously hadn't even started to consider the possibility of other dates for _herself. _ This was so going to work and she might have to hardly do anything at all. Of course, a tiny push never hurt, did it? Of course not. "Well, I haven't really decided. I mean, I'm sure that a number of the saphically inclined would go for her," was Rachel looking a little pale at that? "Still, no one's really come to mind just yet." Oh yeah, there was definitely a trace of relief on the tiny woman's face. Candace had been forming an idea as they spoke and that expression convinced her to go for it, "Hey, I wouldn't mind getting away for a while. Want to go to that music shop on sixth? We could do some shameless browsing; maybe get some coffee before coming back. Oh!" She was really only minimally more convincing than Rachel in her subtlety, "I also have a tiny errand, but I promise it won't hardly take any time at all." The devil smiles like an angel and the lambs are happy to follow.

* * *

><p>Santana looked at her blank 'to do' list with nothing short of awe. She wasn't entirely sure how it had happened. Then again, her aberrant behavior lately might hold some key, she admitted. After all, at this moment she could be at a club with a few of her friends and a few of their friends who she sort of knew. She could be dancing away, rocking a little black dress, and reveling in a bit of shameless yet harmless admiration. When she was invited, however, she'd begged off, siting an assignment that she did legitimately need to finish. Of course, it was finished twelve minutes after the girls had left and obviously hadn't been such a great task that she couldn't have done it when she got home or even after she'd gotten up the next morning.<p>

So, instead of the club, the people, the dancing- she was sitting at home, alone and in her comfiest clothes. She tried to be more disappointed in herself before shrugging and moving on to contemplating the merits of a snack run as opposed to just popping her last bag of popcorn and calling it good.

* * *

><p>It wasn't often that Rachel went into a music store and didn't come out with something, but on rare occasions it was good to just look at things and let them take a place in the back of your head for later. It was a lot less expensive when you let yourself really decide what you wanted. So empty handed was just what the two of them were, coming out of the little shop. It had been fun though, walking around, discussing the various merits and failings, ignoring but not ignoring the suspicious stink eye the owner always seemed to give everyone that didn't walk in absolute silence…<p>

Now it was time for Candace's errand, which reminded Rachel that she had her own errand that she'd been seriously putting off. She probably could either go her own way and do it now, or even sidetrack her friend into going with her, except… well, she didn't want to do either. The little singer sighed softly to herself and decided that one more day of procrastination wouldn't hurt but that she'd have to suck it up and deal with it soon.

Those thoughts were interrupted by new, suspicious thoughts when Rachel realized that whatever Candace's errand was, was taking them distinctly towards the student housing area of NYU. "Your _errand_ is _here_?"

"Mm," the other woman hummed, confirming distractedly as she got a mental lock on which building they were heading for. They were walking at full speed when she continued, "I just have to return something. Won't take a minute."

Rachel was every bit as suspicious now as she had been before. Still, she was trudging, good naturedly along with her friend. She even ran when Candace let out the war cry, "Security door!" when some student walked out, carelessly leaving the heavy door to slowly swing back into place. This kind of dorm carelessness was common, distressing, but sometimes highly useful. Sneaking in was just so much faster that Rachel ran with barely a thought about the ethical connotations.

It wasn't even a shock, slight thrill in the stomach area notwithstanding, when the door they stopped in front of was answered by Santana Lopez. The Hispanic woman looked adorable, blinking at them, wearing the sloppiest outfit that Rachel had ever seen on her. "Uh, hey Ho… Candace. Rachel. Whatcha need?"

Candace hid her smile as she started rooting through her purse. Santana didn't want _someone_ to hear her mention the name 'Hobbit Mark II'- she'd been totally right about the origin of that name. "Here it is," she grabbed a book she'd thankfully finished reading. "Just wanted to return this to you."

Santana gingerly reached out for the book. No recognition flashed over her face at the sight of _Beggars in Spain_, the title of which sounded like ultra-conservative propaganda, but the cover of which looked like cheesy, mid-seventies sci-fi. Curiosity and the hilarious attempt at a subtle, pleading look from her friend kept her from calling her on the lie. Rachel could probably tell anyway, but there was no need to make a scene.

It occurred to all three of them that the words 'set up' seemed so much more appropriate now than they had at Beans and Things that day.


	9. Tell Yourself Pt 1

(First You Have to Tell Yourself Part 1)

"Ah, well, thanks for this..." Santana waved the book in her hand, trying to find a way to make the situation stop being awkward. "So, I was just going to watch a movie or something. You two want to join me?"

"I actually have to get going. I'm meeting someone at Charlie's in half an hour." Candace hoped for the best, "You two could watch something though. Don't let me spoil things!" She was already waving and walking away, making Rachel think she was kind of a hit and run conversationalist…

Rachel wanted to stay. She wanted to go inside that room and pry into the life of her friend. She wanted to watch a movie, whatever it ended up being. "I don't actually have any other plans for the night…"

"Great!" Santana's smile felt obnoxiously large on her face, but as it was there she figured she'd let it stay. She opened the door fully, moved to one side and motioned for Rachel to enter. "As they say, 'make yourself at home'."

There were books and papers stacked on about half the surfaces, but the floor was clear and the small room was otherwise clean. Via the furniture and decorations there was enough color to get somewhat away from the 'this is a dorm' feeling that the room (like all others) was obviously meant to convey. It was fairly cozy and Rachel found a small smile twisting her lips as she lazily walked from stack to stack, seeing what titles looked up at her from the tops. One title made her stop in her tracks and give up on the 'look but don't touch' behavior she'd been living up to so far.

'A Lime Lesbian's Guide to Good Dating' would have been a medium sized book if it had been bound normally rather than in a ring binder. Of course, seeing as the author was one Santana Lopez, the presentation did make quite a bit of sense. She flipped to random pages, reading headers when she saw them and was stifling laughter at the 'rules' the guide espoused. 'Rule number 1: Never assume you are on the same page about what having sex means, because you are never automatically on the same page about what sex means.' 'Rule number 7: Be wary of a woman who considers you 'the man' in the relationship.' Following that was, 'Rule number 8: Be wary of a woman who considers _herself_ 'the man' in the relationship.'

"I go on to say…" Santana's voice coming over her shoulder made Rachel jump slightly before spinning around, hand over her heart. Santana merely smiled and continued, "…that those kind of gender ideas aren't necessarily a big deal, but it's something you have to agree on rather than inflict on another person. Just so you know I'm not hating entirely on that kind of thing. It's just not _my_ thing."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have looked through that without permission."

Santana waved it off, "Don't worry about it. If I was that worried about people looking at it, it would be in… uh, it would be somewhere else."

Rachel laughed, "Right, well, so long as it isn't part of the secret stash of shame, do you mind if I keep looking a bit? From what little I've seen so far, you seem to be an engaging writer and I admit that the subject material and specifically your take on it have me intrigued." At the brief, silent nod she continued to look at the section beginnings, the titles and bits of the opening paragraphs. Rachel really would have loved to read the entire thing, but that seemed like pretty poor form to stall watching the movie to sate her curiosity. Perhaps she could borrow it…

"You know," Santana started, "I'm pretty sure that was what put me on Candace's project list." She laughed, a little self-deprecatingly.

"What?" Rachel's voice was filled with mock disbelief, "She couldn't see that you've obviously got it all figured out?"

"Mm," Santana hummed, "yeah, check the conclusion."

"'That's how you avoid my mistakes. Now, if you figure the rest out, let me know.' Hmm, no, I see what you mean. That doesn't seem quite so conclusive."

Santana laughed, "No, it's not so much. Still, it represents some good life lessons, a few interesting years, and what I've fondly realized was a steep learning curve."

Rachel remembered what Santana had said about what her high school years hadn't taught her about dating. "What made you decide to put together an actual book? Oh! And do you mean to get it published?"

"Second question: no. I can't imagine taking the time to actually get the thing publishable. The first question…" Santana moved to her closet and took a shoe box from the top shelf. She opened the lid and motioned for Rachel to take a look.

"'Note to self: Suggesting you skip going out before date 3 can lead to being smacked in the face.'" Rachel only read the first note aloud as she rifled through the box of Post Its, all labeled with 'Note to self'.

"So, I wrote one of those after a crappy date, one that was entirely my fault, and after that it sort of became a thing. I felt a bit better after I got it out. It felt even better to get it sort of organized in a physical sort of way. It made me feel like I was actually figuring things out, making progress in project 'Become a Decent Human Being'."

"You really weren't-"

Santana cut her off, "I kind of was, though I also know that most teenagers need a little work to get to be the kind of people they actually want to be. That's what college and getting out on your own are for though. You figure out both how you can and how you want to live."

Rachel smiled, nodding slightly, "So I've seen."

They shared a moment, grinning goofily at each other, both thinking of something silly or strange that had gotten them to where they were. Of course, there had been horrible moments and hard lessons too, but for that instant none of them had the power to overshadow the more amusing memories.

"Alright!" Santana clapped her hands, breaking the moment. "We're watching a movie which means that popcorn is a necessity." She grabbed the bag she'd been contemplating before, then her keys as she headed out the door. Rachel briefly debated staying where she was before hurrying to catch up.

On the way to the communal kitchen (Santana later explained that the microwave in her room had a blown fuse) several waves and greetings were thrown Santana's way. She returned them cheerfully, sometimes attaching a colorful, but not quite mean, nickname. It made Rachel realize something about Santana and the nature of her friendship. She realized that the 'popular' girl probably _had_ considered the members of New Directions to be her friends more than she had the other cheerleaders. These people though, who she could easily tease without the anger getting in her way, were real friends. Rachel was happy for her, that she could have this now. She was also, however, somewhat evilly thinking of their mutual friend's reaction to a specific part of Santana's past.

"So," Rachel said casually once they were in the kitchen and not in hearing range of any of the other residents, "how many people know you were, like, totally a cheerleader?" She was absolutely mocking Santana, but the enormous smile on her face took any sting out of the jab- though it left all of the implied threat.

Santana, to her own surprise, found Rachel's threat and this show of her devious side… kind of cute. Of course, it was a game that two could most definitely play. "Oh, you could tell people. You could tell people so long as you're fine with _your_ friends seeing a particular video." When Rachel's face remained questioning she clarified, "I made a pretty hot dark angel," and followed with a wink.

Then Rachel knew exactly what Santana was referring to. It was mortifying to realize that there was remaining video evidence of the 'Run Joey, Run' debacle. Her show face was on at full power when she said, "I really don't think anyone needs to hear or see anything they don't already know."

**Notes: **I know it's really short, but this has been an unbelievably busy week and I just wanted to have at least a short update.  
>Thank you, so much, to everyone who's given me support through feedback, favorites, or just kept reading (I compulsively check stats, I can't help it). I've been writing this because the past few months have been ones where I needed something happy and more than a little silly to focus on, and it means more than I can say that people have wanted to join me for the experience.<p>

To Ali: I really wish you had an account so that I could PM back and forth with you, but this will have to do. I've spent some time thinking about your comment. I've actually looked into this very issue before and I've found that there are arguments for both ways. Honestly, I'm not really that fond of descriptive phrases being used for nouns, but I also worry about the use of proper names getting repetitive- also, in a story where almost every character is female, relying on simple pronouns too often can lead to mix ups. Still, I've thought about it again and used this chapter to experiment with leaving those kind of references out. In the end, I'll make my own choice, but I want to thank you- both for your honest opinion and also for the polite way you expressed it.


	10. Tell Yourself Pt 2

**Notes: **As ever, thank you so much for your support. A certain, anonymous reviewer may find a section in here that their comment inspired...  
>There will likely just be one more chapter- unless I add an epilogue.<p>

(First You Have to Tell Yourself Part 2)

Armed with lightly salted popcorn, the two meant to head back for Santana's room. They were stopped however, by a voice coming from amidst the small crowd in the common area. "Hey, Thunder, get over here!"

Santana stopped short, turning to face a rather tall girl with dark blonde hair. "'Lyss, no matter how many times you call me that, I will never, ever, call you 'Lightening'. Besides, your reasoning behind the nickname is entirely flawed."

'Lyss, whose actual name was Alyssa, stepped just a little forward even as Rachel asked, "Why would she call you 'Thunder'?"

"Because she's loud and has a tendency to come in late."

Rachel smiled at the new twist on an old joke, one she recognized immediately as a musician joke. "Does she…" She turned bright eyes on her friend.

"No." Santana affected a stance that she'd been rather famous for in high school. Even though Rachel had been seeing different examples of the same thing since she'd arrived, it was amazing to her how even though it was the same stance, the intention was so different. There was no anger. Santana was just playing with friends. "If you want to talk about 'being late', you'd really need to talk with the wannabe diva who thinks that r_ubato_ is implied whether it's written or not."

A couple of the others 'ooh'd at the jibe. "Just because no one else has a sense of musicality…" Alyssa trailed off before recovering, "which will be proved when the solo list's up next week. I killed my audition and not you or anyone else could've done better."

Santana beamed at the girl, obviously pleased despite the nature of their banter. "Oh, I doubt that. Even on your best day, I still know a hobbit princess that could sing circles around you." The initial look of challenge faded slowly as it sunk in what she'd said, who she'd said it in front of, and just how her friends were going to make it worse.

A hobbit princess who sang… Rachel knew that this nickname was hers and she could feel a smile taking over her face. It was an endearment, a sign that she was one of the people who was 'worth the effort'- and the addition of 'princess' to the old name was a pleasant touch.

It was the horrified glance Santana sent in Rachel's direction that started to clue in the others. One of the guys, who by the arm around Alyssa's shoulder, was probably the girl's boyfriend, was the one to say it though. "Holy shit," he pointed at Rachel, "she's the boogieman you're always getting threatened with." He lowered the hand that had been pointing to slap against his leg as he started to laugh. His girlfriend on the other hand, was staring with wide eyed shock at the girl she'd truly believed Santana had invented.

"You've been invoking me to torment your friends?" Rachel's left eyebrow approached her hairline as she asked, and though she tried to keep a serious face, her lips quivered with the need to grin.

"It's possible that after my time in McKinley's glee club that I found a choir without the threat of being upstaged by Rachel Berry to be somehow lacking…"

A few more gentle taunts were passed around, followed by a bit of discussion of the latest music the choir was working on before one of the guys who Rachel hadn't learned the name of invited them to join them for a film, using the common room TV which was significantly larger than the one in Santana's room. Rachel was surprised when, after they gave their assent that the next order of business was: 'So, what should we watch?' She'd really expected that the group would have planned that first, but it was apparently not the case.

Santana, entirely unsurprised was quick to offer, "I'll just go pick something out. We all know I've got the best movies."

Some of the group actually seemed fairly inclined to agree and go along with whatever Santana chose. Alyssa, however, had a stipulation. "No Romero. Period."

"You have one little marathon…" Santana rolled her eyes, "It was in honor of the mushrooms! The poor, decapitated mushrooms!"

She couldn't help it, Rachel snorted at the reminder of the fateful lunch and its less than stunning fare. Santana also couldn't help it; she thought the sound was both hilarious and adorable.

They ended up watching someone's copy of The Fifth Element, one of Rachel's guilty, nerdy pleasures. When some of the others tried as well, she even allowed herself to fully indulge and during the Diva Dance she tried to hit all of the notes- and did hit more of them than the original performer. This feat earned her a number of cheers and a few slaps to the back. Santana put a hand on her shoulder and gave her the brightest smile she'd ever seen from her. It made Rachel feel like the other woman was proud of her and that made her flush with pleasure. Subconsciously she settled back into the couch, a little closer to Santana than she had been before. They had already been sitting fairly close to each other.

It was impossible for Santana not to notice. In fact, she wasn't noticing a good portion of the second half of the film as she continued to notice. It all started with the thought that Rachel was pretty much the perfect size for a Santana-shaped object to hold onto. The train of thought picked up speed, obviously traveling downhill, from there.

Santana considered her strengths. She was intelligent, attractive, most of the time people laughed at her jokes and, again for the most part, she was getting pretty good at the whole 'decent human being with emotions' thing. She had prospects for the future, though they were perhaps a bit vaguer at this point than some. She glanced again at Rachel who had known exactly what she'd wanted before she'd gotten through preschool.

That thought forced her to consider the other hand. Right now they were friends- which was great, except that she had sort of promised herself to never do anything that even vaguely reminded her of the way she'd started her relationship with Brittany all those years ago. Of course, this was different. They were older, and wiser, and all that crap. Santana had also proven that she _could_ maintain friendships with other women without it getting all complicated. So, maybe that wouldn't be a real problem beyond the weirdness of having to say, 'Hey, I've been thinking that what I should have said in that coffee shop was that we should really give this dating thing a go.'

That left the third hand which said that if she thought the whole 'let's not just be friends' conversation would be awkward that she should remember those six years immediately following elementary school. They'd gone to different schools for the first seven years or she'd probably have to count those as well. She'd like to think that before hormones made sex and fear the center of her universe that she'd have been nicer to Rachel but she wasn't willing to count on it. So, yes, there were six years of insults, a slushy here and there, that thing with Finn, a number of other things she didn't really like thinking about all that much… Yeah, she couldn't actually think of how _that_ conversation might go. They were good as friends, but there were different standards for friends and for girlfriends. When you got annoyed with your friends you just didn't hang out for a bit until you got over it. If you got annoyed with your girlfriend you brought up past indiscretions and held them up as proof that the other party was clearly slime. Santana had been on the receiving end of this far too many times, with girls who had far shorter histories with her.

Santana didn't miss the entire end of the film, but it was likely that everyone found her a bit distracted as the larger group broke apart. The two walked in full silence this time on the way back to her room. She hadn't thought anything new, but she was diligently thinking all of the old thoughts, testing them for weakness.

For her part, Rachel was also thinking over something that had been on her mind. She realized that it was kind of a stupid thing and that it shouldn't be any kind of big deal. It wasn't as if it were something odd to ask. It was simply that she really cared what answer she received. When the door was shut behind them she allowed excitement and curiosity to win out over nerves and just came out with it. "So, you know that I have been preparing my senior recital." She continued at Santana's nod, "Well, the date's set for just a week from now and… well, you'd be more than welcome." That wasn't nearly strong enough, "I mean, I'd really like you to be there."

There was no way that Santana was going to be able to say 'no' to the bright, hopeful look she was being given. "I wouldn't miss it." She smiled, "Wow, just a week. You completely ready? Ha, what am I saying? Of course you're ready."

"Well…" Rachel grinned sheepishly, "I'm mostly ready. I picked a challenging range of selections, but I feel really good about them… well, I feel really good about them _now_, so I suppose that I might not feel so good about them in, say, six days when…" Looking up at the amused, quirked eyebrow that was Santana's response to her rambling, Rachel brought that thought to a halt. "I've been meaning to buy a new outfit, something kind of special, but I haven't been able to make up my mind. I keep going to the shop and then find I can't decide if something's fabulous and flashy or just gaudy and horrible."

That hit Santana in the gut. Rachel didn't even begin to imply it, but she couldn't help thinking that she'd done her part in making the woman in front of her doubt herself in this arena. Probably half of the insults she'd thrown had been about Rachel's attire. Perhaps the girl had worn a few unfortunate outfits, but in another six years they'd all be looking at their high school fashions and wincing in shame. "I'm sure that you'd be able to pull off anything that called out to you."

"Yeah?" Rachel sounded hopeful and doubtful all at once. Half a second later she keyed in to what her comment may have sounded like. "Well… yes, I'm sure it will be fine. I've successfully pulled off 'fine' and even 'quite nice' a number of times. It's just that this time I kind of want 'amazingly amazing' and it would be really comforting to get a second opinion before I put that kind of money into something that I probably won't be wearing all that often."

A slow grin takes over Santana's face at that. "I'm told that I'm infinitely qualified in the art of opinions… Well, ok, I'm told that I'm really opinionated, but it's totally the same thing, right?"

Despite her laughter Rachel managed to say, "I'd be honored to make use of your 'expertise'."

* * *

><p>They hadn't been able to meet the day after their little, impromptu movie party, but the day after that found the two women dress shopping. As it turned out, this was not nearly the project that Santana had been lead to believe it would be. Rachel had honestly decided what dress she wanted a while ago, but she'd chickened out on the way to the register twice now. She'd walked directly to it, sighed in relief that it was still there, picked up the hanger and marched into the changing room like she was planning on engaging the enemy.<p>

Honestly, she loved the dress. It really wasn't complicated, it draped over one shoulder and billowed about, slightly toga-esque, and was a shade of yellow that, in Rachel's opinion, seemed to go really well with her skin tone. She thought it made her look exotic. Wearing it she felt like she could leave behind 'moderately attractive', and get to try out 'beautiful'. It was a heady thought, but it also made her worry that she was turning delusional. That was a danger; she'd seen the proof. Rather, she'd been forced to see the proof when she really, really didn't want to. That in mind she steeled herself for judgment and stepped out for her inspection.

Santana felt her jaw unhinge and she fought to keep her lips shut to keep it from being so obvious. She'd been keeping herself in check for weeks now, only very discretely checking Rachel out occasionally. She'd mostly kept her hands to herself apart from innocent, well mostly innocent, incidents like sitting so close during The Fifth Element or that proprietary hand she'd put at Rachel's back at the terrible diner before she'd remembered she wasn't on a date and that the gesture might not have been ok even if she had been. This dress, she decided, was the fashion equivalent of an ambush. She made another decision too. "Buy it. Seriously, it was made for you and if you don't buy that dress it would be a crime against nature, or fashion, or whatever. Just buy it." She'd decided that awkwardness be damned, she'd grovel, make huge, embarrassing gestures, or whatever she had to do, but this 'just friends' business was going to come to an end soon.

First Rachel smiled at the affirmation of her choice. Then she felt chills from the intense look she was being given. They were good chills. In fact, there were more, very pleasant reactions going on. For a moment she remembered a certain Britney Spears experiment. For another half a moment, before she got her head together, she had just enough time to realize that she had actually managed to forget her own name. She liked Santana looking at her that way. She was going to make sure it happened again, as many times as she could manage. What was a little history, anyway?


	11. Then Tell Her

**Disclaimer: **(Haven't seen one of these for a while, yeah?) I do not own Glee or any of the music that I mention in this chapter- except for the one I made up.

(Then You Have to Tell Her)

The songs were all wrong. Sure, they were great songs, over an impressive range of genres. They were also the songs that she'd been working her ass off on and the songs that her accompanist expected her to sing… Well, ok, she thought, she really didn't need or even want to change the whole program. There was just something missing. No, she wasn't actually confused about what she thought was missing. She just didn't want to think it too loud for fear that it would sound as ridiculous as she feared.

No, she thought, it was time to face her own thoughts. Yes, the idea was ridiculous, but it was what she really wanted and since when did Rachel Berry not go after what she really wanted? That accepted she just needed a plan, and she knew exactly the meddlesome bunch that she would go to for help with the details.

* * *

><p>"Say it again." Candace could really be insufferable, particularly when you were asking a favor of her. It was probably because she knew that was the one situation where she could really get away with it.<p>

Rachel grit her teeth, "I said, 'you were right', about Santana… and me… and since you enjoy calling your people mash-ups successes, you're going to help me do something foolishly beautiful."

"I like the sound of that. Well, actually, I like the sound of both of those things- me being right, and encouraging foolishly beautiful displays. I'm in. What do you need?"

"I need a song…" And from there, Candace went off with instructions to call Rachel by the end of the day.

* * *

><p>Hours later Rachel felt as if she'd put in a full day, though she was still buzzed with equal parts excitement, nervousness, and sheer perfectionism. She'd gotten Candace's call and actually had enough time to make it to the music store. They hadn't actually had the song she'd wanted but they had ordered it for her. She'd gone back to the school music lab and printed off some pirated sheet music to use in the meantime- hey, it was fine as long as she'd paid for a legal copy! She'd even had a chance to meet her accompanist (a curiously non-talkative young man named Ben) to tell him that 'Maybe This Time' was out of the recital lineup and then she'd handed him the music that would be done in its stead.<p>

Now she was finally getting back home and she just had one more favor to ask and she was absolutely sure that she wouldn't be denied. When she walked into the apartment, which seemed smaller every time she entered, two of three roomies were there and she could be sure that Brett would go along with the other two. Chris and Tanya were awfully hard to resist, after all. "All right, everyone, I have something to ask, a mission of utmost importance that only _you_ can accomplish!"

"Ending your war with denial?" Chris asked and Tanya wiggled her fingers with his in a sign of approval.

"No," Rachel ground out, wondering why all of her friends were so irritating. "I have dealt with the 'denial' all on my own, thank you very much." Her friends actually cheered.

"Ah," Tanya said knowingly, "stage two then."

"Stage two," Chris echoed.

"Stage two! In which you do me a tiny favor at my recital." Rachel's 'star face' grin was bright enough to be dangerous.

* * *

><p>In the days between their movie night and Rachel's recital, Santana had gone through a number of plans in her head. In the end she'd decided that simple was probably best. If she did something extravagant tonight and it went badly she'd then have to make up for ruining her (theoretical) girl's senior recital and that sounded like the kind of points that Santana couldn't afford to lose.<p>

So, here she was with a modest yet interesting bouquet of flowers, sneaking in enough before the performance started not to make a scene, but late enough that there was no chance that Rachel would be out front talking with friends and family who'd made it out. She'd actually put some thought into the flowers she'd chosen. Well, she'd gone onto Wikipedia to look up meanings before she'd then gone to a shop to see which of her choices was actually available. She'd started with just some gardenias because they meant 'good luck' which is a nice thing to say to someone about to graduate and also 'secret love'. Then she'd decided that she'd throw in a couple red chrysanthemums because just the gardenias sounded a bit cowardly. She'd really wanted to have some lime blossoms but it was probably for the best that the shop didn't carry them…

The lights dimmed and Santana hurried to hide the bouquet safely under her seat before Rachel walked out on stage and blew her away- again. She was prepared for the hotness of the dress, but she hadn't realized just how much better Rachel's singing had gotten, and the little diva had already been extremely good five years ago.

Most of the people in attendance were having a somewhat similar experience getting reacquainted with Rachel's singing. They listened enrapt as she sang Schubert's _Gretchen am Spinnrade, _as a nod towards the classical. They smiled and laughed as she nailed Sondeheim's _On the Steps of the Palace._ They cheered, almost deafeningly at the end of her emotional rendition of Claude-Michel Schönberg's _On My Own_.

This brought them to intermission and left Santana with another decision to make. She really wanted to get up and move. It wasn't really that she'd been sitting so long, but she was nervous and excited and… whatever. She considered finding Rachel then but once again was stopped by the 'if it sucks, you've wrecked her recital' logic. In the end she decided to leave her flowers under the seat and her jacket over the chair to discourage someone else from sitting there so that she could wander the remaining minutes.

That's when Santana was kidnapped by a fashionable Viking.

* * *

><p>Less than a minute left of her intermission was left when Brett found Rachel to give his report. "Did you find her? Did it work? Does she know?"<p>

Brett just looked amused at the rapid fire questions and calmly answered when she'd finished. "Yes, we found her straight off. Yes, we convinced her to do the warm-ups. Finally, though I'm pretty sure that she thinks we're insane, your girl doesn't suspect our real motives in the slightest." It had taken some doing. He was really glad they'd come up with as good a ruse as they had- that of arguing which vocal exercises were more effective and drafting Santana as an 'unbiased judge' to try them out and make the final call.

This information was an immense relief to her and Rachel threw her arms around her friend. "Thank you so much. This is going to be so… well, I suppose it could still be horrible… but it won't! It's going to be amazing. Say it!"

"It's going to be amazing."

"You're so right!" Rachel was more than ready for the second act.

* * *

><p>Santana wandered back to her place in the concert hall which was, thankfully for any would be interlopers, unoccupied. She sank into the seat and tried to shake off the odd feeling her intermission adventure had caused. She'd been talked into doing vocal warm-ups of all things. Either Rachel's friends were weirder than she thought or someone was plotting something. Since she believed that Rachel's friends were insane before, it seemed unlikely that they were weirder than that. That only left the option of a plot. Concerning her. Concerning singing… but that hardly made sense. Unless they'd figured her intensions towards Rachel and wanted Santana to serenade their friend then… Oh, that could be it, she supposed. Foolishly, she hadn't prepared a song…<p>

Applause startled Santana from her thoughts and she realized Rachel was onstage again, about to start the second half.

"Ladies and gentlemen," quieted the crowd, "I'm making a last minute, and I mean 'last minute' program change. In fact, a little group, positive thinking might be in order; it's that unprepared." There was a smattering of laughter as the audience waited to be informed. "You see, recently I became reacquainted with an old friend, a fine singer who I shared the stage with when I was part of the infamous New Directions." There was more laughter this time. Apparently Rachel did talk about glee club that often. "I realized this week that I really wanted a chance to sing with her again." Santana's eyes flew wide open at what her intended girlfriend was saying. This was much scarier than she'd suspected, although it was kind of nice to understand what that weird business with the vocal exercises had been about. "Santana, even with this terrible notice, would you please sing with me? I promise it's a song you know…" Rachel put every ounce of enticement that she could into the request.

Santana was a goner. Saying no to that? In front of all these people? When she really wanted Rachel to say 'yes' later? It wasn't even an option.

The audience cheered as Santana walked towards the stage, rightly taking the action as an agreement. As she walked, Rachel grabbed some music from the piano to have ready to hand off when the other woman had made it to the stage. "You'll take the lower part?"

The song was _Shatter Me_ by a new artist named Cass Shye, and it was currently one of Santana's favorites. "Lower part, definitely," she nodded, now really excited as well as nervous instead of merely terrified. When the intro started, there was no fear in either of them. Mainly, with Santana singing a silky, slinky line about the emotional fragments of a woman and Rachel singing out above about taking to the sky, desperately waiting for the fall that would break her, it was just sexy as hell. At the end, the crowd showed that they definitely agreed by practically roaring with approval.

For the rest of the recital Santana was in too great a delirious haze to be overly aware of what she was seeing and hearing. Well, she knew she was seeing Rachel and that was beautiful. She knew that she was also hearing Rachel which was likewise beautiful. She even managed to notice during the final number that the wonderful weirdoes that her girl (she was hopeful in leaving out the 'intended' this time) called friends joined her for an ensemble number that she would never remember the name of. Whatever it was, it was amazing. But then it was over. The recital was finished and it was, to borrow a phrase, show time.

Afterwards the audience morphed from a reasonable number of people, reasonably sitting in chairs to a huge mob, each trying to get to the star of the night and say their piece. While Santana hung back she counted four bouquets go into Rachel's arms. She consoled herself by thinking that the other arrangements weren't any prettier than hers and that at least two of them came from various parents- Rachel's fathers and Shelby, who Santana was actually immensely glad to see there, supporting her daughter just like any proud parent.

Santana was a bit torn on how long to wait before she went in, flowers at the ready. She wasn't naïve enough to think that at any point Rachel was going to be alone. Her family and those roommates weren't going anywhere for a good while. Though perhaps not ideal for her, she thought it was actually appropriate that she'd be doing this with an audience, since she's always had one when she'd said hurtful things in high school. She wondered briefly if she shouldn't go in before the majority of the crowd dispersed. The idea was abandoned however as impractical. If she tried to crawl through that mass she end up with a bouquet of stems and a post-tornado look that probably wouldn't be all that flattering.

When Santana did make her move, there was still an assortment of people milling around, and though Rachel was still beaming at the praise being thrown her way, some of the people with her were starting to look a little bored. She hoped that at the very least her gesture proved entertaining as she breathed deeply, stepped in front of Rachel, and held out the flowers.

Rachel had thought she'd been smiling for all she'd been worth before. Now her smile was so large that she was actually a tiny bit concerned- not that she could do anything to stop it if she tried. "Santana, thank you! They're beautiful. You didn't have to but actually I'm really glad you did. I mean, I'd have been glad that you'd just come today, but then you sang with me too and now…" She made a helpless gesture as she realized that she didn't know what to say next and that she'd probably said too much, all in one breath too which she would surely be teased over.

It just made Santana smile, "Well, maybe I didn't _have_ to, but a smart girl like me learns to hedge her bets."

"Bets…Uh… Santana? What are you talking about?"

Santana's face went serious. Even though part of her wanted to, she knew she couldn't make this a joke. It would feel safer, but it would never work. Furthermore, Rachel deserved sincerity. "OK, here's the thing," perhaps not the best opening, but she powered through it, "we've gotten to be friends despite everything, and that's fantastic. I mean, I didn't really deserve it and you didn't have to, and I'm really grateful." At this point Rachel looked like she was about to answer so Santana hurried on, knowing that it would be too easy to stop there. "It's been so great that I've realized that it'd be even better if we were girlfriends." Rachel looked rather stunned, which decided Santana on what to say next. "Look, you're amazing. You're intelligent, talented, and majorly gorgeous, and even if I have to spend some serious repentance time before hand, I'd really, really like a chance with you."

Inside Rachel was squealing rather than having very many lucid thoughts, a fact made clear when she said aloud, "The song worked! Even better and quicker than I thought it would!"

It wasn't just Santana laughing at that, but she was the one to answer. "Yeah, worked like a charm. It worked so well it was working in advance so I wouldn't turn up empty handed," she winked, causing Rachel to blush. "So…" she drawled, "Can I take that as at least a definite maybe? Despite, you know, everything?"

A Rachel shaped missile was launched then was hugging her close. "I don't care about any of that any more. So what if I got called a few names by people that were struggling through by misplacing their anger? Of course it hurt back then, but it's long over now, and even then I doubt it would have hurt so much if I'd understood as much about people as I do now, you know?" Santana nodded slightly, but her stronger reaction was bringing up her arms to firmly hug Rachel back. "We've been replacing those memories with much better ones. And… that other thing… with… you know… Finn." She really didn't want to talk about this awkwardness, but it really was better to get it over with, "That ship has passed so well and truly that I can't even see it anymore."

They drew back, each needing to see the other's expression. Later, they'd both have a different story about who started kissing who first. At that moment however, both of them were pretty intent on it to the point that they were getting away from a PG rating when a pointed cough drew Rachel's attention to, much to her mortification, one of her fathers who had a worried eye on the tanned hand that didn't actually relinquish its place on her ass until she lightly elbowed the woman the offending appendage belonged to. Even then, Rachel was amused to notice, there was no discernible shame on Santana's face.

Santana had never had massive amounts of shame and she was far too happy with events to bother with it now. She did realize, however, that this party needed to move along. "All right, all right, I've said my piece and I'll get out of everybody's hair- just as soon as I say one last thing." She grinned, liking the symmetry and liking her odds even more, "So, there's this coffee shop I'm told is a favorite around here... Are you familiar with a place called Beans and Things?"

**Notes:**

Thank you, everyone, for sticking around and reading! Double thanks to everyone who reviewed and even more love to the wonderful people I got to hear from multiple times. I can't say how much it means, but I will say that you've inspired me.

There's a reasonably good chance that there will be a fast forwarded epilogue at some point in the future. I might work on another project first, but as the ending of this story happens pretty early in the relationship it seems like it would be fair to at least get a glimpse of things sometime down the road.


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